Mad World
by mistress-steerpike
Summary: The moderately anticipated sequel/prequel to the events in "Eulogizing Hermione", in which we find out where Hermione was sent after her "death", and learn more about her relationship with Snape and Ron's betrayal
1. Default Chapter

Mad World  
  
By: mistress-steerpike  
  
Rated: R  
  
Pairing: Hermione/Snape  
  
Summary: The moderately anticipated sequel/prequel to the events in "Eulogizing Hermione", Hermione is being sent into hiding after her "death". Secrets are revealed through a sequence of moderately clever flashbacks. Enjoy.  
  
Authors note: Okay, somebody emailed me to ask if I could update them and I was so happy that someone asked that of me, and then...I accidentally deleted their email instead of replying and telling them I would oblige. I'm so sorry, so if you know who you are, just email your address along my way and I will take care of it. Updates to this story will be announced in my online journal, here is the address: Also, to those interested, this story was written to the sounds of "Evanescence", anticipate a bit of quotage as the story progresses, their songs just fit the mood. Oh and also, also, yes, I do love "Donnie Darko" and I do realize that Tears for Fears did the original "Mad World" song...I just like the Gary Jules version better.  
  
Hermione Granger was now officially Musette Anne Bateman, as stated in the Witches ID that Albus Dumbledore handed to her as they stood outside the gates to Hogwarts castle. She studied tiny rectangular card that contained her portrait, it smiled weakly at her, and nodded its head slightly. Suddenly, the card disappeared into a puff of yellow and red smoke, which drifted into the pocket of her robe.  
  
"Where am I going, Professor?" Hermione inquired, eyes still locked on where the card once was held. Had she been looking in his direction, she would've noticed the lack of twinkle in his eye, as he sighed quite mournfully.  
  
"A little known wizarding mental health institution called Cliff's Edge, it's never been known for its safety conscious methods of dealing with the less-fortunate, sadly."  
  
"Why there?"  
  
"Well, Miss Granger, if it was discovered that you were not dead, who would think to look for you in a place like Cliff's Edge? The more questionable the conditions of the hiding place, the safer you become. Do you understand?"  
  
She did.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"To everyone there, you are to be my ward, a suicidal orphan turned slightly unhinged by the fatal attack on the attack on your parents, and my dearest friends, the Bateman's. Can you remember that?"  
  
"It doesn't matter, as long as they do. All I need to know is my name, and not even that, considering my new lodgings."  
  
"Very good, Miss Granger. You make a very convincing lunatic."  
  
"Harry is the only other person to know about this, am I right?"  
  
"Yes, but my duties as your secret keeper prevent me from telling him your whereabouts, except for in the event of my death, or the end of the war, in which someone will come to fetch you promptly."  
  
Hermione felt a small smile cross her face as she thought about his words.  
  
"Everyone but two think that I'm dead...won't my homecoming be a surprise."  
  
"Indeed, I daresay Professor Snape may be the most grateful to see you alive and well when this is all over." Hermione started a bit, her eyes widening, and face paling in shock.  
  
"You know?"  
  
Dumbledore placed a large, wizened hand on Hermione's shoulder.  
  
"My dear, I have known all along...well not until tonight actually."  
  
"He came to visit me?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded at this.  
  
"I don't see why he would, it was over a few days before I got into this whole death mess...I meant nothing to him."  
  
"Are you so sure, Miss Granger? He seemed very distraught to me."  
  
"That was him feeling guilty, no doubt, just as I wanted it to be...He won't be sacked, will he?"  
  
"Definitely not! He's a value to the order, and you're dead, so it wouldn't make sense, would it?"  
  
No sense in not seeing the logic in that one, Hermione reflected.  
  
"Now, if you don't mind, time is growing short, and Cliff's Edge desperately needs a new face..." With two small pops, both student and headmaster were gone.  
  
They reappeared at the heart of what Hermione regarded as "the world's largest petrified forest". The height of the building, and the surrounding trees stubbornly vanquished any rays of the new rising sun, and Hermione shivered inwardly. There were no flowerbeds, as the sun most likely never visited often enough to support any type of plant life. The long path to the front door was overcome with weeds, tall grass, and sharp loose rock, all of which brushed Hermione's ankles as she and Dumbledore advanced on it. Hermione paused when she saw Dumbledore had stopped moving.  
  
"What?"  
  
He quickly conjured a pair of shears and a box of Miss U.K. Witch instant hair color and handed the items to her.  
  
"In case somebody recognizes you."  
  
Shakily taking her cue, Hermione started to hack at her beautiful long tresses with the shears, not caring about evenness, or style. She stopped butchering her hair when it became an unruly chin length monstrosity. Opening the hair color box, she extracted a single vial containing the smallest translucent drop of coloring; she uncorked the vial, and spilt the coloring unto the top of her head. Instantly, the dye took affect, turning her hair from honeyed brown, to a questionable peroxide blonde. She was in tears by time the procedure was over, and Dumbledore had produced a small mirror for her to peer into.  
  
"Come now, Miss Granger, it was only hair, and like all living things, it will grow back, and so shall your coloring. We must greet your captors now, I think they may grow impatient."  
  
Hermione looked mournfully to the ground, her severed hair disappeared quickly, as she heard Dumbledore perform a charm. Biting her lip until it hurt, she nodded in agreement.  
  
"We mustn't keep them waiting then."  
  
It took all of Dumbledore's strength to push open the large door at the entrance. Hermione immediately put on a slightly vacant appearance, keeping her eyes submissively to the ground, deliberately fidgeting with her hands.  
  
Standing in front of them was a very tall, very gaunt woman. The skin over her skull seemed so tight that her hazel eyes took on a very wide appearance, and her pink frosted lips were pulled into what seemed like a perpetual smile. Her color of hair was unknown, as it was concealed by a nurse's habit, as was her rail thin body. She extended one skeletal arm towards Dumbledore, and took his wizened hand into her expertly manicured one.  
  
"Albus Dumbledore, such an honor," she greeted mechanically, her voice monotone, and frigid as cold steel. Her eyes shifted to Hermione, and narrowed quickly, before turning them back to Dumbledore.  
  
"The feeling is very mutual, Nurse Pratt. This is my foster child, Miss Musette Bateman." Hermione lifted her eyes to the formidable nurse, and the muscles in her mouth worked ever so slightly to give her an almost imperceptible smile of acknowledgement.  
  
"Oh dear...what did she do to her hair?"  
  
"It happened during one of her fits, most unfortunate."  
  
"Oh yes, and the color does not match those dark eyes at all...a redhead, perhaps?"  
  
"I'm not here to discuss her hair color, Nurse Pratt, I'm here to discuss her making Cliff's Edge a temporary home. I cannot handle her, sadly. She was once a very agreeable child...but the attack on her parents has left her violent, to herself and others. She rarely speaks, and when she does...well, there are words she says that I don't think need to be discussed in civilized conversation. She desperately needs your expertise, your care."  
  
"Does she now? What do you have to say about this, Miss Bateman?"  
  
Hermione looked to Dumbledore, her eyes wide, he smiled encouragingly, the customary twinkle almost blinding. Grinning, she looked at Nurse Pratt and replied with, "Fuck."  
  
"I see. Now, if you will both follow me to my office, I have some papers you'll need to sign, Professor."  
  
They followed her down several long corridors. Hermione tended to curiously glance into the windows of the patients' rooms, but never got a good enough idea of what the living conditions were like, as it took quick strides to keep up with Nurse Pratt.  
  
Nurse Pratt's office eerily reminded Hermione of Delores Umbridge, with all of its kitschy ceramic kittens, and the sight impairing pastel walls. They both seemed to favor the same sort of style: Tacky extreme.  
  
Pratt invited Dumbledore to take a seat in a bright pink overstuffed armchair, but failed to offer Hermione the same courtesy. She stood at Dumbledore's side, trying hard not to look at the offending color of her surroundings.  
  
"Now, what these forms are basically saying is that this commitment is involuntary, and whenever you, her ward, feel she has achieved satisfactory mental health, than it is your job to come and collect her, and in the event of your death, Miss Bateman will remain with us, until we feel she has achieved satisfactory mental health...unless of course, a new guardian is provided for her."  
  
Hermione felt her stomach drop. She looked frantically at Dumbledore, who was maintaining his usual calm demeanor. He smiled, nodded, and promptly signed the form. Hermione felt as if she was witnessing the signing away of her very soul.  
  
"By the way, Nurse Pratt, how is your elder sister faring these days?"  
  
"Well, she's been right as rain ever since we moved her from that dreadful St. Mungo's. Those people...thinking they are the authority on how to deal with my sister's trauma...utter buffoons, every last one of them. Now, I will show you both the room Miss Bateman will be staying in, I'm sure you will find it very pleasant..."  
  
She was right about Hermione's room being pleasant. It was small, but bright, with blue and white striped walls that matched the spread on her daybed. On one end of the room was a sweet white dresser, with a pitcher resting on the top, on the other end was a large window that seemed to face an area on the grounds that let sunlight soak in, casting shadows on the blue carpeted floor.  
  
"Very nice...I must take my leave of you, Miss Bateman. Nurse Pratt, make sure you take care of this girl. Despite her serious problems, she is very dear to me, and a few others at home. I shall miss her greatly."  
  
Hermione had done very well in keeping her composure up until then. Quite suddenly, the tears came, as did the sobs. She threw her arms around Dumbledore, and embraced him as tightly as she dared, burying her face into his beard. He patted her back, and murmured soothing words. She released him, her sobs calming to quiet hiccups, and her eyes red and swollen.  
  
"Goodbye, Musette."  
  
She was quite alone with Nurse Pratt then. She didn't dare speak as she waited for her to make a move.  
  
"I'm going to show you to your real room, but first you need to follow me to the hospital ward."  
  
"For what?" Hermione asked fearfully.  
  
"Miss Bateman, it is a theory here that the mentally unstable, once slipping into their comfortable insanity, have no human right to reproduce, for fear of what they will do to the children they bear, or what the children will become. It is customary here for every patient to be sterilized immediately upon their arrival."  
  
"Let me get this straight...you are going to perform a mandatory sterilization surgery on me...because I have a few issues? Does Dumbledore know about this?"  
  
"No dear, I'm afraid not. Now, if you'll please follow me..."  
  
Hermione made a beeline for the door, and slammed right into a large figure blocking the way. Hands tightened around her upper arms in a vise grip, and she was lifted easily off of the ground, and slung over the large man's shoulder, shrieking and swearing as loud as her lungs would allow. Severus's name came unbidden to her lips in a scream before Nurse Pratt hit her with a "stupefy" curse. She slunk into the warm darkness of her subconscious mind immediately.  
  
End of Prologue  
  
Flashbacks in future chapters will explain the events leading up to this, I hope you enjoyed the first installment! Goodnight. 


	2. My Immortal

Mad World  
  
Chapter 2  
  
By: Mistress-Steerpike  
  
Rating: R  
  
Authors note: I just got back from theatre camp a few days ago, and so this chapter is dedicated to my fellow Snape/Hermione fan that converted me into a Harry/Draco fan. Oh Such Malice, you rock! This chapter is for you! Yahtzee like a mutha fuckah!  
  
And if you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
Because your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone  
--Evanescence "My Immortal"  
  
Grey is much too bright a color, Hermione thought as her eyes finally opened, painfully taking in her new surroundings. The sensitivity in her eyes made her wish for complete darkness, but since she was not fatigued in the least bit, escaping through sleep was impossible. Propping herself upon her elbows, Hermione attempted to put some effort into sitting up. A sharp pain shot up and down her torso, forcing her to recline unto her back once again.  
  
It took her a few seconds to realize where she actually was. Cliff's Edge, a nice little cage for the nuts and bolts of the wizarding world, apparently Hermione was one of those nuts and bolts that needed to be safely locked away. Safely? That was yet to be seen. The state of her new room didn't scream security, it might've, if it weren't for the overpowering stench of dankness and death, the military style cot she was laying on, the frigid temperature, or the appearance of the room being one of a perfect square of concrete. The whole room was suspiciously bright, illuminated by the hanging ceiling lantern, which appeared as if it would pull itself right out of the ceiling and on top of Hermione's head.  
  
Somehow, Hermione found her voice.  
  
"Nurse! Nurse Pratt, get in here," Hermione cried at the very tip-top of her lungs. She winced once again, regretting her decision to make use of her vocal cords. The only satisfaction coming from her decision to do so was the tip-tap-tapping of Pratt's heels as she hurried down the hall.  
  
"What is it, Miss Bateman?" Nurse Pratt tried hard to conceal the annoyance in her voice as she entered Hermione's room.  
  
"I take it the surgery was successful? If so, I hope you rot in hell, you fucking whore!" Hermione screamed, slipping into the personality of the unbalanced and foul-mouthed Musette.  
  
"Lower your voice, Miss Bateman. I would hate to send you straight from surgery to shocks on your first day," Pratt threatened. Hermione started a bit.  
  
"Shocks?"  
  
"Yes, it's a muggle practice, but it has its uses. You see, Miss Bateman, shocks are-"  
  
"I bloody well know what shocks are!"  
  
"Then I assume you don't want them, do you? Especially not while recovering from surgery."  
  
"No," Hermione replied, her voice small, and frightened.  
  
"Good. Now, in an hour or so Lottie Wilkins will be bringing you your supper, after today there will be no more meals in bed, you will attend them in the hall with the rest of the patients of this ward, is that clear?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Another thing, it's considered a sign of respect to refer to me as ma'am, please do so."  
  
"I don't respect you though."  
  
"Then fear me."  
  
Pratt turned on her heel, and exited, closing and locking the door with a punctuated "click".  
  
Hermione was left all alone once again. Her eyes drifted sadly to the small window high up on the north wall of her room. It was a small rectangular stripe of a link to the outside world, and far out of her reach. The receding sun had been allowed access through that tiny window, leaving a bar of rays to imprint itself on the concrete floor. The image inexplicably drove Hermione to tears. She buried her face into her pillow, to avert her eyes from the heartbreaking sight, her sobs coming liberally.  
  
"Severus," she whispered. The word disturbed her. Why on earth would he be so unwaveringly prominent in her mind? He, who had tossed her aside with casual cruelness, paying no mind to the intensely frightening feelings she harbored for him, he who had ignored her tears as she collapsed in the corridor outside of his office. The bastard didn't deserve his name on her lips.  
  
Many, many miles away, Severus Snape was slumbering away, but not very peacefully. He was dreaming about her again.  
  
There it was. The Great Hall, as it had always been, except...the walls, floors, furniture, and tapestries had been dyed black, black like his eyes. Snape stood at the entrance, staring down the aisle at the main table. Seated comfortably in Dumbledore's usual area, was Sirius Black. James and Lily Potter had seats at his left and right, respectably. They all seemed to be acknowledging Snape's presence, Lily even waved shyly at him. He was too terrified to return the gesture.  
  
A hand touched his shoulder, and he spun around, only to be facing the figure of Cedric Diggory. He was smiling slightly, and was clad in his Hogwarts robes, as were the three other ghostly hosts.  
  
"You'll want to be seated for when she arrives, Professor," Cedric explained, leading him to the head table, where he settled down at Lily's side, giving her a wary look.  
  
"Hello, Severus," she greeted, taking his hand in hers.  
  
"What is going on here?"  
  
Lily raised a finger to her lips, "Shhh, she's going to arrive soon."  
  
There was no need to ask who "she" was.  
  
Cloaked in black like a Dementor, Hermione Granger made her way slowly, and deliberately to the head table. It was impossible for Severus to see her face, as it was facing the ground below her, but the errant curls that cascaded from her hood were unmistakable. Dumbledore followed behind her, a hand resting gently on her left shoulder. He stopped her from going any further once they reached the table, and pulled the hood from her face, as she lifted her eyes to the hosts of the table. When her eyes reached Severus, they lit up and her lips curved into a smile.  
  
"Severus..." she whispered in the softest of voices. He was undone.  
  
It took a matter of seconds for him to climb over the table, and pull her into his arms. He didn't care that the force in which he was gripping her was very nearly rib crushing, but then again, neither did she.  
  
"Please be real," he pleaded, his voice quaking as he lost control of his emotions.  
  
"I'm not, though." He released his grip on her, and cupped her face in his hands, tilting it upwards facing his own.  
  
"Pretend you are," he replied, kissing her fervently. She returned his kiss eagerly, allowing him to pull her close against the length of his body once again.  
  
"Do you love me?" She asked between a series of savage kisses.  
  
"Don't you know the answer?"  
  
"Yes, but do you?"  
  
He stepped away from her, shakily.  
  
"I do."  
  
"And?"  
  
His reply was interrupted as Sirius and James appeared behind Hermione, and began to drag her away from Severus. Beyond their shoulders was a slender white casket, wide open and empty. Hermione attempted to fight them off once she saw where they were taking her. Severus was glued to where he was standing, utterly speechless.  
  
"Don't let them take me, Severus," she cried, trying to reach out for him. She was hoisted into the casket, screaming at the top of her lungs, and then muffled as the lid came down on her. Severus finally reacted.  
  
"Come back, Hermione!" He started running for the casket, which Sirius and James were starting to carry out of the hall, one at each end.  
  
"You've got to say it," Hermione's voice called back.  
  
"Shut her up, James," Sirius mumbled. The two of them paused, and set the casket down. James opened the lid, and Hermione attempted once again to escape. She was thwarted, as James placed one hand under her chin, the other behind her head, and hastily broke her neck. She collapsed back into her casket, head tilted, and wide eyes staring into Severus's horrified ones.  
  
"Let's go," James suggested. With that, the room was cleared, save for Severus, and Hermione's lifeless form.  
  
"I love you," he uttered, before waking up.  
  
Severus scanned his sleeping quarters with dull eyes. They widened when he realized that he was in the old Head Girl suite for the third time in a row since her death. Clutched in his hand was her wool scarf with the abhorred Gryffindor colors stitched in. He released it, and pulled himself to his feet.  
  
In the darkness he could see her desk. Oftentimes he would stroll into her bedroom late at night for a rendezvous, and find her working diligently on one project or the other at that very desk. He summoned the image, unconsciously, imagining how the sparse light of her lantern, and the moon, would outline her curves through that seemingly prudish white nightgown she favored. He favored it as well, for the previously stated reason. She would look up from her work, smile, and say something very witty about him being out past curfew, long bout of shagging would ensue.  
  
"How perfectly indecent," Severus said aloud, before returning to his own quarters.  
  
How vividly he remembered Hermione's first attempt at seduction...  
  
The school had been in an uproar that first week, reeling from the news that Ron Weasley had quit school, and was now very much on the side of Voldemort. Nobody had a real sufficient answer as to how it had happened, and when for that matter, but most reckoned it had to do with the fact Percy Weasley had joined ranks not four months before this all occurred.  
  
Harry had taken the news as well as any teenage boy discovering his best friend had betrayed him for the man who killed his parents would...he destroyed all of Ron's pictures and past gifts from birthdays and Christmases that had been left behind, starting an impressive bonfire outside of Hagrid's hut. Hermione witnessed it tearfully, and declined the offer to roast marshmallows with Harry and Hagrid.  
  
Not long before the Weasley incident, Severus had been painfully cut out of the Death Eaters, having been subjected to a number of unforgivables; he was miraculously, and suspiciously left to die. The shock of his survival must've been great, but the increase in security around Hogwarts once school started proved even greater. No one from the outside world was allowed access to the grounds, and no one from the inside was allowed out. Death seemed to only means of escape, and no one was stupid enough to go that route.  
  
Everyone in Advanced Potions II took note of Severus's radically declining health, especially Miss Hermione Granger, who seemed to observe it a bit more thoughtfully than the others. He had been rapidly losing weight, and the acid sting to his voice had been softened to a slight burn. Hermione Granger came to the conclusion that if they were to win this war against Voldemort, the morale of one the Dumbledore's top allies had to be brought up drastically. Being Gryffindor, and a generally brave person, Hermione thought herself aptly qualified to be the person to do the "bringing up".  
  
She had prepped herself for hours that night. Brushing her hair countless times, only to realize the repetitive habit was adding volume to her already voluminous hair, going through her limited wardrobe, searching desperately for something even quasi-suggestive, and deciding on not putting any makeup on her face after much debate.  
  
She settled on a light cotton nightgown. High-necked, and long sleeved as it was, it also had the benefit of being a bit transparent when the light hit it. Her hair, she left unbound, flowing down to the middle of her back. With a slender red candle in one hand, she headed down to the dungeons, under the protection of Harry's invisibility cloak that she had pilfered cleverly.  
  
She felt the tremors in her body grow more violent the closer she neared Severus's office, fearing imminent rejection, detention, and humiliation. It never occurred to her until then that he might vehemently decline her indecent offer. She felt like turning around, it wasn't as if she really wanted to sleep with Snape...it was purely for the cause!  
  
When she found herself in front of his office door, she raised a trembling hand, and hastily knocked. When she heard footsteps, she discarded the cloak.  
  
Severus Snape's face was impossible to read the moment he discovered the Head Girl standing outside of his office at the most indecent time of night. Hermione's was a bit easier to decipher; extreme fear that gave way to unconsciousness, as she fainted into his awkward arms.  
  
She regained consciousness on what appeared to be his desk. He was towering over her, not with the usual menacing look, but with a look that told her that he was very...amused.  
  
"Miss Granger, what brings you to my office so late at night?"  
  
Hermione decided to come clean. She pulled herself unto her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him full on the mouth. The awkwardness of the moment was magnified by the fact that he wasn't returning the embrace. She broke away, and smiled weakly.  
  
"I've come to seduce you."  
  
He laughed at her then. The volume of it startled her, and she slid off of his desk, onto the floor, and stared at him.  
  
"Whatever for," he asked, once his laughter calmed down. She was glaring up at him.  
  
"For the cause. You're losing your health, and I thought you would need something to get you through the final battle once it arrives," she explained in her best know-it-all voice. This only caused him to start laughing again.  
  
"And you thought that bedding a stupid little girl would boost my morale, is that it? My, you are conceited."  
  
"It's not like you could do any better," Hermione spat back, without thinking. Anger and humiliation were both clouding her mind. Her little barb had worked, however. He was now returning her glare.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher, Miss Granger."  
  
"Can I get a detention as well," she asked, lowering her voice to a seductress's purr. This infuriated him.  
  
"No you may not! Now, Miss Granger, I'm not above being someone's pity fuck, but not yours, or any of my pupils', is that clear?"  
  
"I wouldn't mind it, Professor." He was startled by the raw desperation in her voice, and then he realized, Ron Weasley had been her lover. She was still coping with his betrayal, and in some twisted way, this whole seduction was a coping mechanism. He immediately pitied the girl.  
  
"Yes you would. You'd mind it plenty, waking up next to your despised potion's master. It would traumatize you, my dear."  
  
"How would you know?"  
  
Something in the air crackled, and Severus found himself hoisting the girl onto his desk, kissing her violently, with surprising possessiveness. His hands rested on the curve of her neck as he continued to ravage her mouth with his tongue. She quickly unbuttoned the front of her nightgown, allowing one of his hands to slip inside, cupping a voluptuous breast, teasing the nipple to a hardened point.  
  
He was suckling greedily on the splendor of the side of her neck, when realization hit him.  
  
"Miss Granger?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," she asked in a breathless voice that nearly sent him over the edge.  
  
"Is this what you want?"  
  
"Oh, yes!"  
  
He sneered against her neck, and then cruelly pushed her away from him.  
  
"Isn't that too bad. Get out of my office, Miss Granger. I don't want to ever see your irritating presence in this room ever again."  
  
She left the office quickly, leaving Severus with a pounding headache and a throbbing erection...  
  
The Severus Snape of the present filed that memory away to a corner of his brain along with other things he was struggling to forget. The memories of him ever treating her cruelly was something he never wanted to ponder on ever again, as was the memory of his gradual dependency on her. He wanted her to be completely blocked from his mind.  
  
That, of course, was proving to be very difficult.  
  
End of Chapter  
  
Quick note: There IS a plot, and like a good lawn chair, it needs to be unfolded slowly.  
  
You used to captivate me  
By your resonating light  
But now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me  
  
--Evanescence "My Immortal" (again) 


	3. Got to Keep the Loonies on the Path

Mad World  
  
Chapter the third  
  
By: mistress-steerpike  
  
Authors note: My apologies for the delay, for those of you who read and enjoyed chapters one and two. I was fully aware of what I was doing, but I was being lazy. But here it is, chapter three...yay! In this chapter we get to meet the residence of Cliff's Edge, such as Nurse Pratt's sister, a youthful orderly, and a bizarre female patient.  
  
"I ate your bacon."  
  
Hermione ceased her crying, and lifted head to face the intruder. A young woman stood at the foot of her bed, holding a tray of food in front of her. The contents of the tray were not at all appealing to Hermione, nor was the smell permeating from them. The woman appeared to be somewhere in her late twenties, very short, and very skinny, probably due in large part to the condition of the food at Cliff's Edge. She had longish dark brown hair, and large, imploring dark eyes that frightened Hermione a little bit.  
  
"That's okay," Hermione managed to reply after taking everything in.  
  
The woman invited herself to take a seat on Hermione's bed, setting the tray down with a bit of a dull "thud".  
  
"I'm Lavinia Clare."  
  
"I thought Lottie was supposed to bring my food to me," Hermione stated, confused. Surprisingly, Lavinia let out a high-pitched giggle.  
  
"Oh she was...but a little while ago she threw herself off of the namesake!" Lavinia continued giggling at her comment. Hermione began to feel a bit ill at ease  
  
"I see."  
  
"Yes, so here I am...it really is horrible food, just so you know. Well, except for the bacon sandwiches, and I ate yours. But you don't look hungry...you look sick."  
  
"The surgery. I'm still a bit sore from it."  
  
"Oh, that dreadful thing! I came here when I was sixteen, and that's the exact age that they do that to patients, any younger and they can't. At least not for a while."  
  
"How long does it take to heal?"  
  
"I don't remember, ask me again tomorrow."  
  
"I'll do that."  
  
Lavinia's eyes brightened all of a sudden.  
  
"You need a tour, that'll cheer you up!"  
  
Hermione shook her head incredulously.  
  
"I can't walk, Lavinia, it hurts too much."  
  
Lavinia then gave Hermione a look that said that she thought Hermione was the silliest goose in the gaggle.  
  
"Don't be a dunce! I have a wheelchair waiting outside just for you, and Larry is going to push you around in it while I rattle on about this and that, and then maybe later, when you feel better, I can introduce you to Betty! She's been here longer than anyone else, you know. Even longer than Dr. Blakeney, and that's saying a lot."  
  
"Who's Betty?"  
  
"I'll tell you THAT, when you feel better. She lives way up in the attic rooms, and that's such a long climb, so you'll have to be in top condition, you know. She likes visitors so much...but so far, I'm the only one," Lavinia finished her speech in a bit of a mournful tone, but brightened up when a man barely past his teen years entered the room with a sturdy looking wooden wheelchair. He was tall, and wiry, with ordinary features, and a slight acne problem.  
  
"Hello Larry," Lavinia purred. He reddened at her greeting, and turned to Hermione.  
  
"Miss Bateman, if you'll allow me..."  
  
"Silly, her name isn't Miss Bateman! She doesn't look like a Miss Bateman, are you a Miss Bateman?"  
  
"Musette Bateman," Hermione corrected.  
  
"No, I don't think so. I don't like your hair either, do you like her hair, Larry?"  
  
Larry smiled as he gently carried Hermione from the bed and into the chair.  
  
"I think her hair is just lovely," he replied, shyly. It was Hermione's turn to blush.  
  
"I don't like blondes, but I like you, Musette, because I don't think that you are a natural blonde."  
  
"You'd be right. This is just a bit of an experiment gone wrong," Hermione answered, as the three of them started to leave her room, Larry behind her, pushing the chair, and Lavinia at her right side.  
  
Lavinia smiled and clapped.  
  
"I knew it! Now we can be the best of friends."  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
Lavinia then went on to explain the various rooms on their floor of the institute. Hermione was shocked at how many recreational rooms were off limits. There was a swimming pool, a billiards room, a dance hall, and a small gymnasium, but all were reserved solely for Nurse Pratt's sister.  
  
"It wasn't always like that...not until the Red Queen's sister the pink Duchess came along and ruined everyone's fun. I used to play in all of those rooms, but we can't anymore."  
  
"Is there a library?" Hermione asked, hopefully.  
  
"No...not one that we can use. Pratty doesn't encourage the loonies to read." Hermione noticed that Lavinia's already drawling singsong conversation was becoming a bit more...flighty. Larry kept glancing at her, nervously.  
  
"Now, Lavinia, you shouldn't call your fellow floor mates by that term, it's demeaning," Larry scolded softly. She only grinned at him.  
  
"Remembering games of daisy chains and laughs, got to keep the loonies on the path," Lavinia sang softly in her eerie little voice.  
  
"You know Pink Floyd?" Hermione asked a bit surprised. Lavinia blinked, and tilted her head pensively to one side.  
  
"No," she replied.  
"Lavinia, why don't you tell Musette about that room?" Larry inquired, stopping near a very smartly painted door. It was white with little pink daises, and a shining brass knob.  
  
"She lives in there," was all Lavinia said.  
  
"Pratt?"  
  
"No, the Duchess. Go ahead; peer inside, she won't notice. All that great fat thing does in slumber nowadays."  
  
Curiosity aroused, Hermione allowed Larry to pick her up once again so she was level with the round window on the door. What she viewed through that window shocked her so, that she clutched Larry's shoulder quite tightly.  
  
"S-set me down, Larry...please?"  
  
Larry obliged, but looked very concerned, Lavinia was busy with making faces at the slumbering patient.  
  
"Tell me that isn't Pratt's sister," Hermione requested, finding it hard to breath.  
  
"That's her."  
  
"It can't be though! Tell me that Pratt's sister's name isn't Delores Umbridge!"  
  
"Calm down Musette! I can't very well lie to you...Nurse Pratt's sister's name is Delores Umbridge."  
  
"No, no, no, NO!" Memories of the tyrant were flooding back to Hermione...Apart from Lord Voldemort; the name Umbridge struck the most fear in her heart. Cruel, wicked, evil, EVIL woman! She was actually going to cast the Cruciatus curse on Hermione at one time. Hermione calmed herself when she realized that this was a much more sedate, slightly more insane Umbridge, although the last part wasn't much of a comfort.  
  
"Do you know her?" Lavinia asked, turning away from the window.  
  
"No," Hermione lied. Lavinia seemed satisfied with her reply.  
  
"She's boring anyway. She never plays in the rooms set aside for her...what would a fat lump like her want with a swimming pool anyhow?"  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
"Well then it's settled, Larry, Musette needs her rest, you know. She's recuperating, so let's take her back to her room and tell her how lovely it is, and how she'll be staying with us for a very, VERY long time. No one can escape, you know," said Lavinia cheerily.  
  
"That is a very depressing thought," Hermione commented.  
  
"Well, why would you want to leave anyway? Have you a lover, Musette?" Lavinia asked, very intrigued.  
  
"Perhaps I did once."  
  
"Lavinia, don't pry," Larry warned. Lavinia gave him one of her strange giggles.  
  
"Of course I won't pry, Musette will tell me all about him one day, won't you?"  
  
Hermione nodded in affirmation.  
  
"I'll tell you about both of them."  
  
This made Lavinia squeal with delight.  
  
"I DO love a good romance story!"  
  
When Hermione was back in her bed and quite alone, she decided to play a little game. She called it, "Severus and Ron: A Comparison".  
  
End of Chapter  
  
The next chapter will be a comparison of her relationship with Severus Snape, and her relationship with Ronald Weasley, be prepared to take notes. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, I can only assure you that next chapter will be longer, and there will be flashbacks, and it will come out sooner than this one did. Ta ta!!  
  
P.S. The line Lavinia was quoting is by Pink Floyd and it's called "Brain Damage". It happens to be on the Dark Side of the Moon album. Here are the complete lyrics; I feel they fit the location well.  
  
The lunatic is on the grass  
The lunatic is on the grass  
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs  
Got to keep the loonies on the path  
The lunatic is in the hall  
The lunatic is in my hall  
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor  
And every day the paperboy brings more  
  
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon  
And if there is no room upon the hill  
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too  
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon  
  
The lunatic is in my head  
The lunatic is in my head  
You raise the blade you make the change  
You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane  
  
You lock the door  
And throw away the key  
There's someone in my head but it's not me  
  
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear  
You shout and no one seems to hear  
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes  
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon. 


	4. Playground Love

Mad World: Chapter 4  
  
Severus and Ron: A comparison part 1  
  
It had been the summer after sixth year, when Hermione took Ron home to meet her parents. It was to be his first real foray into the muggle world, and as he was his father's son, he was absolutely curious about it. The Weasley's trusted Ron to be on his most gentleman-like behavior, and the Granger's accepted his visit only on the grounds that he would not be occupying their precious daughter's bedroom. He was to sleep in the den with Sir Baxter, the beagle that had been around since Hermione was a very small little girl. He didn't do much of anything anymore, as he was very fat and old.  
  
"Bloody hell, you've got a telly-fission that works!" Ron exclaimed as he played with the remote control on the Granger's satellite television set.  
  
"That's a television, Ronald," Hermione corrected, giving him an indulgent kiss on the cheek.  
  
"And it works!"  
  
"Of course it works, otherwise we wouldn't have it."  
  
"Well good for you, none of the one's dad has works."  
  
Hermione's reception towards Ron was very warm indeed, despite the fact that her mother had taken to calling him "Ronnie". Her father gently corrected his wife when he caught the mortified look on Hermione and Ron's faces. The night of his arrival, the both of them were dragged along to the annual "Dentistry Ball". Hermione remembered Ron's reaction to his designated tuxedo quite perfectly.  
  
"Honestly Ron, my dad's only worn it once."  
  
"It's not that, Hermione, it's just that...it's not a dress robe!"  
  
"Of course it's not, it's a tuxedo...a muggle's answer to the dress robe."  
  
"I'll look like a penguin!"  
  
"You won't look like a penguin, penguins don't have RED hair...honestly..."  
  
"What'll you give me if I wear it?"  
  
"One of these." Hermione planted a sweet, lingering kiss on her boyfriend's lips. When she pulled away she gave him a wicked grin before heading out of the bathroom.  
  
"Well...okay!"  
  
Hermione also remembered Ron's reaction to her choice of dress. She had debated for quite some time while looking through her closet. It had been a dress she had purchased during the Christmas holiday, on a complete whim. It was made of some sort of shimmery pale silver material, and was ankle length, tight fitting, and was held up by a single shoulder strap, leaving the other shoulder bare. It was the most grown-up gown she had, and she intended to wear it, since this was the first time the Dentistry Ball invitation had been extended to include her and a guest. She managed to straighten her hair once more, leaving it loose and unbound. It made her feel like one of those confident women on those pageants her mother used to make her watch all of the time.  
  
"Gods, Hermione...I knew there was a pretty girl in there somewhere," Ron teased as she descended the stairs. She gave him a playful, yet painful punch in the arm, and then linked hers through it.  
  
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful," he whispered as they followed her parents out the door.  
  
Ron, she realized, was not quite adept at the old fashioned dances that the guests at the ball were whirling around to, so Hermione took it upon herself to teach him how to waltz, as her father had at one point.  
  
"Mum tried to teach me this once, you know, for fourth year, but it was sort of weird dancing with her," Ron explained, as he slowly mastered the simple steps.  
  
"You're doing wonderful," Hermione complimented.  
  
Various people at the ball inquired about the dashing redhead who had accompanied Vera and Edgar Granger's daughter. They explained that he was her boyfriend visiting from school, but for decency's sake was not sharing a room with her. The crowd reluctantly approved, and several young girls bemoaned the fact that the 'naughty' looking young man was taken.  
  
"Hermione, there's something I should tell you," Ron stated as they continued to dance.  
  
"Tired already, Ron?"  
  
"No, it's not that...Hermione..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Erm...well, I-I think I love you." Hermione stopped their waltz right in the middle of the floor.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Well...yes." Hermione's shocked expression turned to one of utter happiness.  
  
"That's wonderful, Ron. I'm quite sure I feel the same way," she replied, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him with all the passion and conviction she had. He clung to her, and parted her lips to invade her mouth with his tongue. She eagerly responded...until she realized that they were being stared at. Both of them looked around the room, turning beet red.  
  
"T-that...that was bloody brilliant," Ron gasped. She nodded, and took his hand, dashing with him into the gardens outside to continue their passionate interlude.  
  
That did not last long, as her parents were embarrassed, and ready to leave. Vera had to constantly tell her husband to not tear into Ron...and the ride home commenced in absolute silence.  
  
It was quite a few days before Edgar acknowledged Ron's presence, and that occurred in his private study. Ron overheard the sound of an acoustic guitar playing, and followed the sound into the study, where Edgar was sitting across from Hermione, strumming a tune that Ron couldn't recognize. Hermione was singing softly to it in a soft, sweet soprano voice.  
  
"People are strange when you're a stranger, faces look ugly when you're alone..." She trailed off when she noticed Ron, and Edgar stopped playing as well, following Hermione's gaze to the entryway.  
  
"You play the guitar, Mr. Granger?"  
  
"Why, yes I do Ron.... so does Hermione. Quite well I might add."  
  
"That's brilliant, Hermione! I never knew you had it in you...now I have a musician for a girlfriend!" Hermione blushed like crazy, and walked out of the room.  
  
"She's shy about that, Ron...only her mum and I really know about it. I've raised her on only the finest musicians. Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin...she especially loves The Doors, and has pictures of old Jim all over her bedroom."  
  
"Whose Jim?!" Ron demanded, sounding a bit jealous.  
  
"The lead singer of The Doors, of course...he's long dead now, Ron...you needn't worry about the competition."  
  
"Oh...okay."  
  
This resulted in a two hour-long conversation, in which Edgar raved out about the bands of muggle past, and told Ron how lucky he was that he didn't have to listen to the absolute crap that this world had to offer nowadays. He also invited Ron to listen to a great deal of his records, including his expansive collection of "The Doors" music. Ron listened, enthralled, surprised that Hermione had designated this as her favorite music.  
  
"I have the best girlfriend...ever!"  
  
"You'd better say that," Edgar replied in a warning tone.  
  
It was later, that Ron was told by Vera, that Hermione had taken to her room with a bit of a stomach virus. It had stemmed from Hermione's deep fear of performing in public, and Ron had made her sick by walking in on her singing. The Granger's were going out for dinner that night, and told Ron to check up on Hermione, and try to convince her to not keep up with her silliness. Ron had an idea.  
  
Some time later he knocked softly on her door.  
  
"Who is it?" She asked in an irritated tone.  
  
"Jim...Jim Morrison."  
  
"I know it's you Ron." She jolted a bit when she heard music coming from outside her room. The door flew open, and in jumped Ron, shirtless, with a tight pair of leather pants on.  
  
"Where'd you get the pants?" She asked. He ignored her as the music swelled, and soon he commenced into an amateurish, yet amusing lip sync and dance session.  
  
Yeah!, Come on, come on, come on, come on  
  
Now touch me, baby  
  
Can't you see that I am not afraid?  
  
What was that promise that you made?  
  
Why won't you tell me what she said?  
  
What was that promise that you made?  
  
Now, I'm gonna love you, Till the heavens stop the rain  
  
I'm gonna love you  
  
Till the stars fall from the sky for you and I  
  
Come on, come on, come on, come on  
  
Now touch me, baby  
  
Can't you see that I am not afraid?  
  
What was that promise that you made?  
  
Why won't you tell me what she said?  
  
What was that promise that you made?  
  
I'm gonna love you, Till the heavens stop the rain  
  
I'm gonna love you  
  
Till the stars fall from the sky for you and I  
  
I'm gonna love you, Till the heavens stop the rain  
  
I'm gonna love you  
  
Till the stars fall from the sky for you and I  
  
Hermione's face was burning by the end, but she was laughing nonetheless.  
  
"You're such a wanker, Ron!"  
  
"Yeah but I'm you're wanker," he replied, jumping into bed with her.  
  
"Was this to cheer me up?"  
  
"Yeah...kind of to tell you that...well...it could be worse...you could make always make a complete arse of yourself like I just did."  
  
"I love you," Hermione replied.  
  
That commenced Hermione's very first time with real intimacy. She couldn't really remember it in detail, expect for the fact that it wasn't very memorable, or pleasant. Ron, bless him, was enthusiastic to say the least, but fumbling. When the moment came when he broke through her virginity, Hermione was filled with pain like she never experienced before. It passed quickly, and the whole act itself was over far too soon. She lied to Ron and said it was wonderful, of course, because that's what you do for people you love, she thought.  
  
He left her room before her parents got home, and Hermione fell asleep, wondering how the rest of the summer would be like.  
  
Here end the Ronald Weasley portion of the comparison.  
  
End of Chapter  
  
I'm a high school lover, and you're my favorite flavor.  
  
Love is all, all my soul.  
  
You're my playground love.  
  
Yet my hands are shaking.  
  
I feel my body leaning.  
  
Time's no matter, I'm on fire  
  
On the playground love.  
  
You're the piece of gold,  
  
That flushes all my soul.  
  
Extra time, on the ground.  
  
You're my playground love.  
  
Anytime, anywhere,  
  
You're my playground love.  
  
"People are Strange" and "Touch Me" are songs by a marvelous group called "The Doors" who are superior to the dreadful, and so-called "Doors of the 21st Century" with that nasty Jim replacement. I disclaim. I also disclaim the lyrics to Air's "Playground Love" The rest of this story will be done on ashwinder . sychophanthex . come due to the content I plan to put in. 


End file.
